The Wolf And The Cat
by Yngvildr the Voracious
Summary: He will help her find Andrasté. He owed her that much. She showed him true Freedom.
1. Chapter 1

"I am totally keeping it!" Anders exclaimed, his face, usually strained, lit up with a smile.

"Anders?" Garret asked, his eyebrow lifted high.

It was too late. Anders had started to coo and purr at the cat which looked half-annoyed and half-terrified. Garrett wished they had found gold or something of value in this chest, however. They'll need the coin to get into Bartrand's expedition. He sighed as he ruffled through the chest again. Only this strange... Was it some kind of bag? It seemed so. Two tiny metallic handles were holding it close. Garrett couldn't help but feel amazed at the device. The tiny hooks magically holding onto each other and sealing the bag. It was made of a really sturdy but garish material and it seemed heavy. He decided to open it when they'd be back at Varric's suite at the Hanged Man. Anders was too busy with the cat.

"Calm down, little one. Argh!"

Garrett turned around in time to give the cat a good window to pounce at his face and rebound on the pink and yellow bag. The cat sat there, a menacing hiss in its throat.

"Come on, we won't steal your stuff, promise, Kitty." Varric said. The beardless dwarf sounded annoyed.

"Stupid cat." Carver growled, lifting his mallet high.

"Don't!" Anders yelled.

Garrett never thought Carver would stop. But he did. And the cat hadn't moved. However, it still seemed scared, its fur was in complete disarray, its tail swinging right and left and its legs tensed. Garrett never heard of that kind of feline loyalty. Not toward objects. He'd also never heard or saw black cats sporting blue eyes...

"Listen, cat." Garret said, cautiously. "We're not enemies. I promise I won't steal the bag. Anders can take you both."

The cat's tail stopped moving and it sat on the bag. Its fur was still bristled, though. Anders, understanding Garrett, kneeled in front of the cat.

"Come on, pussycat." he softly said. "I'll carry your bag."

Hesitantly, the cat walked toward the mage in an awkward and gauche way. When it was finally in Anders arms, it seemed to only calm down further when he seized the bag and used the straps to settle it on his shoulder.

"Seems like this thing was made to wear on both shoulders to even the weight." Varric noticed.

"Like a backpack. The straps are wide enough so it won't ruin your back." Garrett added.

"It's kind of heavy." Anders growled as he used the second strap. While doing so, he noticed the contraption used to tighten up the straps and he pulled on them.

"It's incredibly light, now." he added. "It was really well conceived... Unless…"

"We can marvel at the stupid bag later!" Carver hurriedly half shouted. "Let's move out!"

Garrett and him moved toward the door. Anders looked down on the cat which struggled to keep itself steady, as if it didn't know what to do with so many paws.

When they were finally out, the cold air of Kirkwall mixed with the usual stench found in every Alienage in the world hit them with force and a band of soldiers in matching armour were gasping at them.

"They don't have an elf!" one of them yelled.

"But they have the cat!"

"Doesn't matter! Kill anyone who leaves this shack, they said. Come on, boys!"

Garrett winced in annoyance and prepared a fire ball to scorch the area with. Bianca was thrilled to have Varric's hands on her as she had itched for some action for a while.

Anders didn't cast a lot of spells, letting the elder Hawke sibling burn his mana, shaping it into destructive forces. Instead he was saving his in case someone got seriously hurt or needed emergency shielding against the risks inherent to a Lowtown street brawl. He summoned energy from the Fade to shield Carver and Garrett, two targets of choice from both the position of one and the status of the other as a mage wielding the destructive forces of nature.

The fight was over soon, though. Garret's skill when it came to deal with big packs of morons was unrivalled. The only person left standing looked like a leader. He had an air about him that screamed "I don't need Orlesian blood to be a pompous arsehole".

"You made a serious mistake coming here." He said, his eyes riveted on the cat that was still in Anders arms. "Men! To me!" he yelled.

The band was already prepared for combat, but they froze anyway, waiting for something to happen, however only a limping soldier, wearing the same uniform as the others came and fell down the Alienage's steps whith a wheeze that suspiciously sounded like a death rattle.

"Your men are dead." A deep voice rang.

And the cat finally got free from Anders' satchel of poultices, running to the tall elf that had just talked.

Was it the stairs, of was he really that tall? Garrett could swear he was almost his height, though his delicate features and pointy ears marked him as a member of the People. He was clad in a black armour made of leather and metal and ornamented with crow feathers. He had the most curious Dalish tattoos on his face and bare arms and his hair was white as snow. His eyes seemed to glow with fury. Only after diving into his eyes would anyone realise that his right arm was covered in blood as if he had dipped it in a basin full of it.

Or a body.

"And your trap had failed." The Elf continued. His voice was dripping with poisonous contempt at the leader of the mercenaries.

The strange Dalish man, or so they supposed, gracefully got downstairs, his bare feet expertly avoiding blood pools and sharp objects. The cat jumped on him and the Elf let it cling to his shoulders. They could see the cats claws sink into the Elf's skin to steady itself, but the Elf didn't seem to hurt or care.

"I suggest you return to your master while you still can."

The leader of the mercenaries' face contorted in rage or triumph, it was difficult to tell.

"You're not going anywhere, slave!" he spat as he was drawing his sword.

The cat yawned, as if it was bored.

"I am not a slave." The Elf whispered.

Carver shivered.

The Elf glowed.

His arm, still covered in blood, reached through the mercenary's chest and back. The other man gasped and fell to the floor. In the Elf's hand, a beating heart.

Carver puked. Anders was jumpy. Garrett's eyes were trying to eat his face. Varric was wondering why it always happened in combat and never when he had any parchment, quills and strong dwarven ale.

The cat hadn't moved from the Elf's shoulders and, aside from its general clumsiness making it claw at the Elf, it seemed not to bother about what had just transpired.

The heart fell to the floor with a wet sound that made Carver retch again.

"I apologise." The Elf said, now facing the company.

He was indeed only slightly less tall than Garrett, a giant by elven standards, towering over Varric and members of his own race. He had broad shoulders and a slim waist. The picture of handsome mixed with the strange of his white hair and inking, that now that he could examine them closer didn't look Dalish at all. They were not made with the special ink that Merill wore only on her face.

"When I asked Anso to provide a distraction, I had no idea they would be so numerous."

"Wait, you were responsible for this?" Hawke asked.

"I'm the reason you're here, yes." The Elf said. "My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's property. Namely myself and Freedom."

Fenris' hand went to his shoulders where the clumsy cat was perched. It slowly let itself glide and settle in its master's arm.

"Their methods to lure me into the open were crude, but I couldn't face them alone and burdened with my companion and her bag. Thankfully, Anso chose wisely. I trust that the content of the bag was untouched?"

"We didn't open it." Varric said. "We were afraid the colours would stain our fingers."

"Also, you didn't need to lie to have our help." Garret added. "We're always happy to kill some more slavers."

"Thank you again, then. Freedom and I rarely met people who would help us out of kindness alone." Fenris said and his face relayed the emotion. "However, I must ask you one last thing before I repay you for your help. Our former master accompanied the mercenaries to Kirkwall. If we ever want to be free, we must confront him. Would you help us?"

"Wait a minute." Anders said. "Is Freedom really a cat? I never a black one with blue eyes. It is clearly not blind."

Fenris sighed.

"Freedom is the reason why I am free. My master had recaptured me, but he also had made other acquisitions. From the guards he had with him at the time, I heard strange rumours. I can't tell you her whole story here or now, only that she is as much a victim as every slave that ever has been branded and chained."

Garrett and Anders exchanged a look and knew that they were thinking exactly the same thing. Magic.

"A good slaver is a dead one." Garret finally said. "Carver, go back home."

The sick and pale boy didn't say a word. His brother heavily suspected that if he was to open his mouth again, it would only spew more vomit. Carver was a soldier. Heart ripped out happened, because in war there was always Mabari involved... But humans didn't usually do that with a sneer on their face. Carver slowly walked away from the Alienage to the nearby shack their uncle, Gamlen Amell, was living in. Fenris looked at the rest of the band and without any more words, left the Alienage, his new allies in tow.

The mansion in Hightown looked like any other. Freedom didn't have any trouble keeping up with its strange master, even though it oddly stumbled a few times along the way. It looked like a kitten in an adult body, struggling to move its too long legs and sometimes gnawing at its too long tail.

Fenris sometimes looked down to her, looking worried. Did he care for the cat and her safety that much? What was she really?

The Elf opened the door, using his powers to break the lock from within and they entered the mansion. The cat jumped onto him again, this time she settled herself loosely and ready to pounce. Garrett somehow doubted she would do any real damage.

He was still holding Freedom's garish bag and didn't ask Fenris to take it back. He would guard it and stay away from the fight, casting spells from afar.

However, the hard fight that was promised didn't come. The mansion was haunted by spirits and demons, cobweb riddled and littered with broken furniture. It was clear that nobody was there for a very long time. Fenris growled in frustration and Freedom pounced in a chair sinking her claws into it. She seemed to have looked forward for something too. The death of their master? What had he done to the cat for it to seek revenge? Was it even a normal feeling for an animal?

"Gone." Fenris said.

His eyes were cast on the walls, as if he still hoped the magister that ruined his life was about to apparate out of thin air. Freedom was at his ankles soon again, rubbing her head on his legs, looking sad.

"I had hoped..."

But he didn't finish the sentence, he cursed instead.

"Every valuable item you may find in the house is yours. I... I need some air."

He then stalked out of the room. Freedom was about to follow him, but one hard gaze from the elf made her stop and she instead went to sit on her bag that Garrett had kept at his feet.

"Strange elf. Strange cat." Varric said.

"I have some suspicions" Anders whispered at Garret's ear. "Can we talk about it privately later? In my clinic, maybe?"

Garrett nodded and they promptly searched the mansion, finding coin and valuable items to sell in the markets. Freedom hadn't moved, but she let Anders take her in his arms and meowed with insistence until he was carrying her bag too.

Outside of the mansion, Fenris was waiting.

"It never ends. I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it waiting for me at every turn."

He didn't look nor at Garrett or Anders while rambling, but a scowl was etched on his delicate features, showing his disgust.

"It is a plague burned into my flesh and my soul. And now I find myself in the company of more mages."

"You can speak to me directly, you know..." Garrett said, now wary of the strange elf.

"I saw you casting spells inside. I should have realised sooner what you really were."

He was struggling to keep a courteous voice, but it was not difficult to hear the scorn in his voice.

"Tell me then, what kind of mage are you? What is it you seek? Are you craving for power or is it something else?"

"My father, an apostate mage, made me swear on his deathbed that I would protect my family." Garrett answered, his mouth a straight line that made him look stern. "I'm doing whatever we need for us to survive."

Fenris looked at Anders, or more precisely, to Freedom. It let out a single wail that made Fenris' face melt. So this guy was a cat person, Garrett thought. How... _Normal_.

"I imagine I appear ungrateful. I apologise, for nothing could be further from the truth. Here. This is all the coin I have."

Fenris extended a hand holding a small pouch. Garrett took it and gave it a shake. He could feel Varric's smile come back on his face. This must have been all of his savings.

"I owe you a debt, though we did not find you find yourself in need of assistance. I would gladly render it."

"You did not seem that thrilled with us a moment ago." Anders said. "Now you're telling us you're willing to work with mages?"

"You are not Danarius. Wether you're anything like him remains to be seen. I will watch you carefully when we work together. I will promise no more."

Typical. Varric almost spat. However, he saw the cat pounce on a shade and the elf rip a man's heart from his own chest. That could make him shut his trap.

"Seems like a lot of trouble to get one escaped slave and a cat." Garrett said.

"As your astute friend noticed, Freedom is no ordinary cat. She is no cat at all. From what I could gather from her belongings, she was a human woman and her things don't seem to belong to this world. As for me, Danarius only wishes to recover the markings on my skin. They are lyrium. They provide the power Danarius required of his pet to flaunt it at his enemies' faces. Now he wishes his precious investments returned. Even if he must rip it from my corpse."

"Seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf." Garrett said, deadpan.

Anders sighed, Varric sniggered and Fenris coughed. Freedom however hissed at the mage, looking furious.

"Seems like Freedom is quite possessive of you." Anders noticed. "That should shield you from Hawke's incessant flirting."

"I was only joking." Garrett protested.

"Well. Truthfully," Fenris interrupted, looking like he might blush. "I know nothing of the ritual Danarius used to graft these markings on me and the rumours surrounding Freedom's own ordeal sounded ridiculous. Some were even saying that she was Andraste Herself that came to take Danarius as Her new Holy Husband."

Anders snorted.

"Even Varric wouldn't dare make that up."

"Everytime I've wanted to do a smutty version of the Chant" said the dwarf "I imagined the reaction of the Divine in Val Royeaux. Two words. Exalted March."

"Well, maybe Anders can have a look at Freedom." Garrett said. "He's Circle trained, which mean he has the most academic knowledge of the three of us."

"Also, it would be a very bad idea to have Freedom and Merill make contact." Anders added. "If my theory is correct or any good, Freedom would be vulnerable to demons right now and Merill attracts them a honey jar draws flies."

"We'll make sure to introduce them only when she is is back to whatever shape is hers, then." Garrett sternly said.

Fenris was scowling.

"Where do you intend to stay, Fenris." Varric asked.

"Probably here. If Danarius wants to reclaim this mansion, he would pass through us." he said, a sneer contorting his delicate elven features.

"Then let's go to our own places and rest." Garrett concluded.

"Whenever you are ready, Freedom, you can come to my clinic in Darktown. Come with your master. All the cats in the neighbourhood were eaten by the poor beggars of the Undercity. You do not wish to become the night's mystery stew."

Freedom wailed softly, her ears and tail nervously wagging. She didn't seem to find the very dark joke funny. Fenris did, however, probably having eaten such mystery stews in his past. They bade each other good night and Fenris was left alone in Hightown in his new borrowed mansion.


	2. Chapter 2

Freedom seemed restless in the mansion, Fenris noticed. She paced and cautiously sniffed at the remains of furniture. When she was too tired of it, she jumped into Fenris arms. He was really good at reading her now. It has been two years since they met and he could not have noticed his little friend's aversion of dirt! Though she had no problems digging into the earth when she had to take care of her natural urges.

Fenris took one good look around him and said out loud to the cat.

"I think we're going to stay a while. I could clean it up a bit, I guess."

Freedom meowed in approval, burying her muzzle into the crook of his neck.

Fenris then grabbed a bench that wasn't too rickety and dropped the heavy pink and yellow backpack on it.

Freedom loved to have her things near. Fenris supposed that it reminded her of her home. He wouldn't know, not having any for himself. He unzipped the bag expertly, still giggling like a child every time he heard the swift zipping sound and grabbed the grey box.

He called it the grey box because he thought it was holding valuables at first. The flat box, indeed opened but couldn't store anything as it was not meant to. Instead, a flat mirror like surface had greeted him and tiny inscribed squares hid more secrets than objects. The strange signs didn't look like any language he had seen, but he was hardly an expert as slaves weren't allowed to read. Of all her things, Freedom liked her grey box the most, so Fenris always gave it to her first, lest he would have his ears full of expecting caterwauling.

He removed a set of strangely cut pants and shirt in colours almost as garish as the bag and made of fabrics he had never touched. They were crumpled and covered in cat hair. He settled them on the grey box as Freedom had finished sniffling around it. She usually slept in a bundle of these clothes upon the grey box, now letting her elf friend marvel at her otherworldly effects.

One of these was a tiny wallet of sorts that opened into a set of cards and papers inscribed in the same letters the grey box used as well as foreign looking coins made of gilded copper. The first time he got a hold if it, she had turned mad. Now, two years after, she trusted him completely to let him ruffle through the solid but supple cards and inscribed papers. There were pictures on some of them. Pictures he said because they didn't look like they were drawn or painted. It seemed like the perfect representation of a woman with dark skin and blue eyes. And that's when the Elf realised that the guards tales had a sliver of truth in it. She was a human trapped in a cat's body.

Every night they had the time to sleep, they had this little ritual. Making a makeshift bed out of Freedom's clothes and box and admiring her human form in the mementos of the pouch. One of the pictures had several people on it. They all had the same dark skin and frizzy black hair, however, only two had the vivid blue eyes Freedom now sported, a boy and a girl. There were other similarities, though: a flat nose, full lips, a strong jaw. All the women had the human hourglass figure that felt so alien and so big compare to the elven slim shape and tiny waist. With fascination he would observe the woman on the pictures and the blue eyed cat.

She understood him perfectly and looked sometimes frustrated when she wanted to convey a message. She would always cuddle with him for a while before getting into her own bedding and Fenris would sleep almost as if he wasn't hunted when she did so.

She brought him some kind of calm and even a sense of true freedom. Whenever they had lost their chasers, Freedom would intentionally get into a heap of trouble. Usually in brothels or dingy taverns. Without a word, she would jump into the corsage of the prettiest elven girl in town and when they were running from a city for public indecency, she would try to wink at him.

She was getting better at it now.

Fenris smiled. A year ago, he wouldn't have known how to. Freedom settled on his chest, purring loudly.

"I owe it to you. Tomorrow, we will visit the mage in Darktown, my dear friend."

Freedom wailed for a few minutes and stood up, pacing on his sternum. This was one of these moments. She probably wanted to say quite a few words to him. From the purring and the over affection she poured to him after wards in snuggles, she was happy.

When he fell asleep, the smile was still on his face.

"I don't understand." The Mage said. It should work.

Fenris sighed.

"Unless you are wrong and Freedom isn't a mage. Then it is a simple transfiguration spell." Hawke scolded the healer.

"Is there such a thing as a simple transfiguration spell?" the abomination sighed, sounding annoyed.

Garrett Hawke pushed Anders away from Freedom and clapped his hands together. He breathed and suddenly glowed with energy, making Fenris and Freedom wince before he slowly let his hands caress the blue eyed cat.

Freedom glowed with the same green light from the Fade, all of a sudden, she was like a burst of light that lost all form until it took another.

There she was at last. Awed, Fenris couldn't believed he had worshipped mere pictures when a true goddess was standing among them.

She looked different from the pictures somehow. Older. She had the dark skin and the blue eyes, but the ends of her frizzy hair looked dry and were fair like weed. Her mouth opened as she uttered a small squeaking sound and looked up to the other people around her. As she was naked, Fenris' eye was attracted to the stretch marks below her stomach and above her hairy pelvis.

"See! Really simple!" Hawke bellowed, sounding proud.

Freedom looked up to him and then looked at her hands. She slowly flexed her fingers. And as suddenly as she had found her body back, she was a cat again, the light from the magical energy returning to the Fade blinding them once more.

"... Or not." Varric ended with a sing song voice.

"Well, at the very least, we know that Anders was wrong all along and that the home schooled mage is always right." Hawke boasted. "Now we just need heaps of lyrium and..." He was interrupted by a noisy yawn.

"And some rest to replenish your mana reserves." Anders snarled. "Transfiguration is not simple unless you're a blood mage and bleed an Alienage worth of poor souls dry."

Fenris looked at the mages with warriness. He wasn't, completely reassured to see their grave faces or their "Are you mad? Blood Mages only get themselves caught from the trail of bodies they leave anyway."

The elf took Freedom in his arms. Her body was completely relaxed and she was making a wheezing sound. Was she crying, somehow? Fenris wondered.

"We'll help you. We'll get the lyrium. I promise." he whispered, made helpless and worried by Freedom's limp body and unfocused blue eyes. She let out a soft moan as Fenris held her close. It was time to get to work.

Lyrium smuggling activities were dangerous, but Fenris was determined to help his friend become a human again. He relished in the memory of her human body, at how it appeared in the clinic, her skin looking warm and real, her eyes lost upon the world as if she was looking at it for the first time, her arms raised as if she wanted to embrace Hawke for his kindness, her hair thick and shiny.

He worked hard for two days to have Danarius' mansion cleaned. The floors were shining and he even requested the Hawke's help into getting a bed inside that he settled in front of the fireplace. Freedom's things were scattered on it and she was alternating sleeping places among them. It was strange to have Freedom so apathetic, so different from her usual personnality. He would try to joke, to tell her he was going to the brothel when he was only going on an escapade with Hawke. She would turn her head toward him and fall back onto whatever object she had elected to stay for her nap.

Fenris felt even more horrible when he remembered the stretch mark Freedom had sported on her belly. This woman had probably given birth. She had a family and was torn away from those she loved.

That only made him work harder. The best way not to be noticed was to stay in Hawke's shadow and looting clothes from the different mercenaries and smugglers bands they killed. Whenever he didn't need him, though, he would hunt the lyrium smugglers though their tunnels, raid their caches and take whatever coin and lyrium they had on themselves. To confuse the victims' organisations, he planted insignas or torn pieces clothing here and there. When he came back battered and bruised from his escapades, Freedom would usually look at him and demand they cuddle. Now she would just look at him with her empty eyes. She seemed to sigh everytime she did so. He thought about how frustrating it probably was not to be understood, to not hear the words you were desperately trying to say.

She didn't eat, nor drink until he came home and even then, it became apparent that she was forcing herself to please her friend. Fenris was so worried that he brought her to Anders.

He disliked the mage from the very beginning. His hate really came when he heard that he hosted a spirit from the Fade within himself. The elf was too desperate about Freedom's behaviour though.

"This is just another proof that she was indeed forced into this form against her will." The mage said. "She is suffering from melancholia and shock. Usually, being accompanied makes sure the patient does not resort to any drastic measures... All we can do for now is hasting our lyrium collect or the Deep Roads expedition. Freedom wants to be free and we shall deliver. Do you hear me little thing? We're going to get you back to shape, love."

Freedom slowly turned her head toward Anders and laid it on the ground. Her blue eyes weary and looking uninterested.

"Sure." Anders said before he whispered to Fenris. "She is really in a deep depression. We need to make this quick. I'll start digging myself to my own contacts."

Fenris then asked their various companions to take care or Freedom when he was away. Carver never accepted. Hawke was too eager and had probably told Isabela's why because she was too. Anders would only watch over her if he brought her down to his clinic in Darktown and Varric was living in a tavern or at the Merchant's Guild and none of those were safe places. Merrill later asked why he didn't ask her. He didn't waste his breath on an answer.

In the end, he let Hawke, the Abomination and Isabela keep an eye on Freedom even though he was not very pleased about it. He had set his mind on a task and he would see it through. He owed Freedom. He wanted to know her, to hear her voice.

Her exquisite ebony figure was at the forefront of his mind for every smuggler he ran through. He would only let himself breathe when Hawke had need of him. Even then it was more killing, but his mind was somewhat more at ease when the mage was barking orders and taking the decisions in his place.

At least they were good ones and Hawke always shared a bit of bounty with them that Fenris added to his savings.

He wondered if Freedom was aware of his efforts.

He wondered if he was mad to desire her so much even when in her cat form.

Whenever these thoughts would worm themselves in his head, he would shake them with force. He was helping someone who had been a loyal friend for two years now. Was it two years already? Probably half of one had passed since the failed attempt to turn her back.

How could he be attracted by someone he knew nothing about, really...

Tomorrow was the day the expedition departed. He sincerely wished Hawke didn't ask him to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Hawke asked him to come.

"I am not leaving Free..." Fenrs started.

"She can come." The mage interrupted."Bring your magical treasure. If we stumble on a lyrium vein, we'll need it to transform Freedom back right away and the sooner the better."

"Transforming her in the middle of this Darkspawn filled hellhole? I'd rather stay in Kirkwall, thank you."

"Fenris. The lyrium smugglers and the templars are onto you. Thank you by the way, they've been so intent on finding your wretched hide that it's been months since I had to duck one of them. They're on a lead, though. You could use that Darkspawn filled hellhole..."

Fenris cursed in his native tongue.

"Are you sure?" He finally groaned before turning his face toward Hawke.

The mage was serious though. No sparkle in his eyes to prove that it was an elaborate joke. Not that it would be his style. He had been careful, but it was still many months and he was a tid bit too recognizable. He thought about Freedom. They indeed could use the Deep Roads in more ways than one.

"Then we have an agreement. I'll need help concealing the lyrium though. I'll have some on my person as it is easy for me to move around with the substance, but I acquired a lot."

He gave Hawke a pouch, then Varric came by and took another. Finally, Anders and Aveline came by to take the remnants.

Fenris took the last one. Such proximity with the substance was grating his markings and thus his nerves. Freedom, apathetic as ever, didn't seem to notice that she was being moved, or maybe Fenris didn't read well her lack of interest.

It was sickening him. She had been so full of life, had given him a taste of true freedom.

"I'll free you from this trap." he whispered against the cat's ear as he arrived at the Merchant's Guild. Thankfully it was close to where he lived. He arrived as Hawke was attempting to calm his little brother down.

"You have to take me down there with you."

"Stop playing stupid, you oaf! Can't you accept that I'm in charge because I make the right decisions?"

"The right decisions that got Bethany killed!"

Hawke paused a moment, utter scorn filling his eyes. Fenris didn't want to know how the discussion had began, but felt curious about how it would end. Hawke seemed at a hair breadth to hex his brother to the Black City.

"No. Bethany's courage got her killed." he softly whispered. "She shielded Mother. And since you don't want to look after an old hag if I, your arsehole of a big brother was to die down there, then you can leave my shadow instead of reveling in it."

Hawke's jaw grinding at his cheeks, he turned his back on a stuttering young man who was desperately looking for clever words and failing.

Fenris walked near Carver and didn't offer a smile. He didn't remember what it was to grow up or to have a family, but even he knew that Carver's words had been too harsh and hurt too much. He didn't even glance at the fuming human.

Anders was making sure every potion, every poultice he needed was at hand. Varric was making sure everything was alright with Bartrand.

Soon they were going down and hopefully come up rich as fuck, Isabela would say. Fenris nudged Freedom in his arms. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping or if she was too tired from her self imposed fast. He pushed a bit of jerky into her muzzled and she woke up before she let him feed her. Then she nipped at his finger and got back to sleep.

And just like that, they were gone.

"What are you waiting for?" Hawke finally said. "Grab Freedom and follow me!"

His heart lept in his chest and he didn't realise that he was squeezing Freedom in his arms in the first place until she weakly moaned. Had the moment arrived already? Feverish, he released his grip on the cat.

He barely recognised her now. Ever since she had reverted to her true form for a brief moment, her fur had lost its shine and her eyes were unfocused. It was time to see her smile. For real, this time, he mentally added as he remembered fondly all these times when he could see her shake her muzzle.

The Deep Roads had tickled her preservation instinct, And Fenris was somewhat glad for it. It was a relief to see her healthy fear of Darkspawn and how she would jump into the abomination's satchel of potions to escape them.

Fenris followed Hawke with Freedom in his arms and her bag on his back. His heart was thumping in his chest. Would it work, this time?

The mage took her in his arms once they were away from the rest of the expedition. The abomination was handling the lyrium's disposal in strange runic patterns and Varric was making sure no one intruded, Darkspawn or hireling.

Hawke was trying to explain the complicated process to Fenris.

"I'll have to draw a lot of energy from the Fade and the lyrium will make sure that when I run out of mana, there will still be fuel for the spell. Now, since it's part of the Primal School of Magic..."

Fenris lost him afterwards. It was easy to see the difference in education between Anders and Hawke. The latter would use simple words for which the abomination would provide a proper scholar term. Usually in Arcanum. Fenris resisted the urge to spit at his feet.

"Now, I must ask you one more thing." Hawke asked. "Are you sure you want Freedom to become human again?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Fenris spat immediately. "If anything like this happened to you, wouldn't you want to go back to your original form? Have you really seen her that day?"

"Freedom has been your friend for a long time." the mage added. "Would it be the same when she will be able to talk back? Also, those curves... "

He grossly mimicked a kiss with his lips. Fenris burst out:

"She is my friend, Hawke! The only one I ever had! If you are having second thoughts, maybe we should stop this right now." the elf added with a scowl, trying to get the cat back.

"Ok." Hawke said, raising his hand in a sign of peace that only made Fenris tense (mages who raised their arms were usually casting spells...). "Just wanted to make sure, you know. Also, I'd have done it anyway. The poor thing looks like she's going to kill herself most of the time. I'll just need you to stay near... In case something bad happens. That's a hefty amount of power I'll be moving around..."

Fenris nodded and took a few steps back. Freedom was laid amongst her things, especially her clothes. If it worked, maybe she would like to cover her body in front of four men. And the rest of the expedition. The mages also had talked about an anchor of sorts.

Hawke clapped his hands together around his staff and tapped the floor three times with the tip of it. A green aura glowed around him and as he directed the other end of the staff toward Freedom and the light spread to her form.

It seemed to take centuries for Fenris. He saw the lyrium carefully placed at strategic places to fuel the ritual glow and disappear as it was consumed. The green light had completely envelopped Hawke and Freedom and nobody could see neither the cat of the man anymore... Or even a woman. Magic prickled on his skins and Fenris soon realised that they had underestimated the amount of lyrium they needed. The ritual, though, continued and started slowly to feed onto Fenris' markings. Panic bubbled into his throat. This could be dangerous. He owed it to Freedom, however. Fenris took a step toward the light. It was taking too long. He heard yelling somewhere.

The light tugged at his markings, burning them. They flared blue and he winced at the pain. Freedom will be free, he chanted in his mind like a mantra. Slowly, he walked toward Hawke and Freedom. Freedom will be free. She'll see her baby soon. He felt a feather light pressure on his lips.

When he woke up, the woman with the dark skin was in his arms.

"Fenris" she said, her voice hoarse and unsure.

Fenris shivered.

Her blue eyes were staring at his very soul.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is a big chunk that I cannot cut unless I cut my brains in twi perfect halves two looking for a good separation. Hope it's good. **

* * *

Surrounded by the light of the spell Garrett Hawke was channeling, the Cat raised her head to the human Woman. Blue eyes met and they clashed. They were afraid. What if it didn't work? What if it became worse after it was done? The light warped at their edges and threatened to die down. Until he came. The Cat and the Woman both turned their heads toward him. The blue light danced on his body, igniting his markings. He yelled "FREEDOM!". The spell furiously roared back to life at his words.

The Woman and the Cat took a step toward the man. A mist was rising at their feet as the life of the Elf flickered before their eyes like rapidly changing cutscenes from a film.

What is a film? The Elf asked in his head. The Woman chuckled and the Cat meowed in amusement.

C'est une série d'images se succédant à raison de vingt quatre images par secondes. The Cat and the Woman answered in a chorus of thoughts that the Elf somehow understood.

They took another step toward him.

Where are we? The Elf asked.

Dans ma tête. The Cat and the Woman answered. Enfin, je crois. she added, sounding unsure.

They seemed to be indeed somewhere ethereal. The word "Fade" formed into the Elf's mind as he remembered his dreams and the feeling of his phased body whenever he activated the power of the lyrium in his skin, in his veins.

The Cat and the Woman looked at each other again and then to the Elf.

Le Fade est il sensé faire ça ? they asked

The lives of the Elf and the Cat Woman were playing around them on the light that was acting like an... Ecran of sorts. That was the word that came from the Cat Woman. She thought of the English word. Screen. The light conjured by the grey box. Le portable. The laptop. L'ordinateur. The computer.

The Cat had disappeared, only leaving the Woman. The Elf stepped toward her, taking Its place. They were close. So close at last. A breeze envelopped them and pushed them against each other gently, amorously. Their lips locked together and the world exploded in a myriad of lives.

Leo woke up. He was running late for work.

"Ania. Wake up." he yelled toward the girl's bedroom.

Leo stood up and dressed in his blues, put his hat on. He looked at the family clock. He had to go to the mine and quick. They were scouting a new freshly drilled shaft, all the children would be on it. Ania wouldn't wake up, though Lisa was already fixing his lunchbox. His heart jumped at the sight of her. If he came back alive from the mine today, they were to be wed in a month. Her blue eyes and skin browned from the brick factory smoke were a delight to him ever since he first laid eyes on her a year ago. He felt as if he had known her all his life.

"Ania, hurry." he yelled again, to make himself stop to stare at his betrothed.

Ania finally woke up, drool wetting her chin. And they said she was the clever one. Leo sighed as he got out of the house. Father and Mother were already away, begging higher in town. They were already spent by the years of hard work. Leo was sixteen though. An adult, though he retained his child silhouette for now. That earned him the hazard pay from their boss who was attracting all the working children with the promise of high risk for high rewards. He was the only one in all of England to pay children this much. It was a dream pay, really. Leo had been saving most of it for the wedding. For his sister and future child he intended to plant in Lisa's womb as soon as they were wed, so they could continue to pay school for them. With luck, Ania may land a job as a maid instead of a mine worker. His future child may not have to work there either.

But Leo didn't survivre the new forray.

Lisa married a manservant of the owner of the mine her late fiancé worked at. She died half content, half gone.

Leto always loved cats. Varania hated them. He would aways steal a bit of fish from the dock crates to give to Lion, the big blue eyed Tevinter Short Hair that always came to him. They were fast friends, these two. One day, however, the dockmaster caught the cat stealing his daily meal and gutted him. Leto was sad for days. And even after that, he was half gone until he answered the call for Lyrium Bellator. And he forgot.

That day, Elizabeth woke up feeling empty, half gone. Mom and Dad left to do a big replenishing shopping trip. That must be it, she must dislike having to be alone with her siblings. "Surveille bien tes frères et soeurs. On sera de retour dans quelques heures."

She picked at her cereals, drawing a face with pointy ears on a napkin with them. Her siblings were noisy and dirty, Marcelin and Tamara, only one and two, were throwing their bowls around. Epiphanie and Arthur, six and five, were fighting for the tv's remote. They hit the button for MTV Rock and the piano started. She felt the music alleviate her anguish and she grabbed the broom.

Just take those old records off the shelf. I'll sit and listen to them by myself.

When she woke up, she lied in familiar arms. The smell of sandalwood and musky sweat invaded her senses as she let the afterglow take over. Please God, let Andrasté stay asleep and don't make her disturb what Ben and her hadn't had since her birth six months ago: a good night of sleep after a thorough reacquaintance of each other's bodies. Cries echoed in the corridor.

"Your turn." Ben dismissed sleepily, shifting to lie on his other side.

Grumpily, she stood up. She walked to her daughter's room. She was still naked and her companion's semen was starting to trickle down her thigh. She couldn't care less as she heated the milk. That made her even grumpier. The doctors had tried everything but Andrasté had rejected everything they tried. Breastfeeding her had been a dream during her pregnancy. And now it was denied to them, since the pH of her milk or its flavour or something like that was making her cry and her stomach sore. (well maybe little Andrasté had developed tastes of her own already!)

The woman fed her baby and forced herself to relax. No one was to blame. It happened to many women to be unfit to breastfeed for variety of reasons.

She helped Andrasté belch and set her back in her crib. She looked at her tenderly. She favoured her father's fair complexion, but she would have blue eyes and curly hair after her mother's frizzy and tangled African mane. As she bent over for one last kiss on her soon to be gorgeous hair, she felt static on her lips. Or so she thought.

When she woke up, she was chained in a cell, still naked and her privates sore.

"Andrasté?" She whimpered softly.

And in a blur -

When she woke up, she was in her bed. She let out a growl of frustration when she saw that she was late for school. She grabbed her bag and hastily put on some clothes, throwing her trackpants and change shirt in her bag for her sports class in the afternoon. Her whole family was getting prepared, except Daddy who was coming back from work and nibbling at toast in his city worker uniform. Too tired to shower first, he always just reeked, so she grabbed a chair as far as she could from him while he was laughing with her youngest brother Maurice, the only one who had inherited their grandmother's blue eyes aside from herself. She let her mind wander as she poured cereals in her bowl. The chocolate flavoured flakes were drawing strange patterns. It reminded her of her favourite rock song. She should listen to rock again she thought. Screw the baby girls at school, she can listen to whatever music she liked.

A form resembling that of a baby appeared in her cereals as she was stirring the contents of her bowl.

"Andrasté", she thought immediately. "Freedom?" she wondered again as strange swirling patterns appeared in between the dark chocolate corn flakes.

Tamara yelled in her ear, putting an end to her reverie, making Maurice, Epiphanie and Arthur laugh as their eldest squeaked and jumped out of her chair, spilling her bowl.

"Shut up, you cunt" the teen growled in answer to the most unsufferable of her little sisters.

"Elizabeth, it's not a way to speak to your baby sister" her mother scolded in her heavily accented French.

"Gnagngangnagnagnagnaaaa!" She mocked as she stole a croissant from her dad's plate and left, not wanting to eat cereals anymore. The forms disturbed her. She hoped everybody had forgotten how absorbed she was with her breakfast now that Tamara's prank was done. The little brown eyed and fat lipped girl was sticking her tongue out at her big sister and she flipped her her middle finger in answer before leaving for André Malraux High School in a hurry. Mom had seen her and she didn't want to be slapped in the face for this rude gesture.

When she woke up, she was dressed in her pink Sponge Bob top, miniskirt and purple leggings accompanied by her favourite pair of heels. She was dancing next to a gorgeous blonde man with the warmest brown eyes. Ben he said his name was.

When she woke up, she was dressed in her pink Sponge Bob top and miniskirt accompanied by her favourite heels. She was dancing next to a gorgeous dark haired man man with piercing green eyes. Fenris he said his name was.

She felt the connection, the taste of fish in her mouth. She smelled the salt of the Kirkwall docks and the heady scent of Tantervale's little brothel where she dove her furry little cat body in the bodice of an elven sex worker. In a blur -

"Mehdi, look, it's the law. If you want you can be there and only women will be present." Elizabeth appealed. "You remember Fatumata, right?"

Elizabeth was wearing her pink sweat that was clashing with her flashy orange armband that read Police de Proximité. The long garment was warm enough to ward off the chill of this early spring day. Medhi and Kenza were shifting from foot to foot. The Brigade Anti Criminalité officers that had stopped them and spotted Kenza had called them. Surville was PP's turf and the BAC didn't want anything to go awry so close to the end of Ramadhan. The day was shining bright. They knew Mehdi wouldn't dare do anything lest he broke his Holy Vow. They had also specifically asked for women, considering the problem. Masking one's face in public was illegal for a few months now. Many burqa wearing women defied the authority, though most accepted to be questioned if they were brought somewhere nobody but the policeman would see her face.

Unless, they were with a relative or worse: their husbands. This time was one of these times and Fatu looked bored. They had seen too much of this already. She was grateful that it was a Ramadhan day. Muslims were forbidden to do any sin. That included assault. Not that Mehdi was a violent man, as far as Elizabeth knew.

She looked intently at Mehdi. He was an old High School acquaintance and he wasn't dumb like many others in their neighbourhood, he had actually had many good marks and the best score of the region when graduating the Baccalauréat with a "Very Good" mention and congratulations of the jury. He could have gone anywhere. Unlike Elizabeth who only did the average scores, he could have attended the best Grandes Ecoles, they'd have given him help money and maybe rented a flat in Paris so he could attend... But Mehdi wasn't interested in anything else than his family and traditions. He did a short sales formation and stayed in his home town like many others before him, working at the local Carrefour advising old ladies about which tablets, phones or computer they should buy.

His wife Kenza was shivering beside him. From what Elizabeth could gather, she was straight from Le Bled and probably betrothed to Mehdi since she got her first period. From her eyes, she guessed she was very young. No wonder Mehdi was protective of her and it was the Holy Month. He had to obey the law, why was he arguing already?! The man sighed and stroke his beard in annoyance.

"Look, Elizabeth... I trust you. Can you do the check yourself?" he asked, looking like he found this situation both infuriating and awkward or as if someone had stabbed him in the stomach.

"Sure, I can." Elizabeth said with a great smile, happy that no one was going to bother with papers, bruises or making up for a a botched Ramadhan with long additional days of prayer and fasting. "Come on Kenza. We'll go get some privacy." she added.

Fatu sighed too. In annoyance. Her orange armband flashed in the shy light of the spring sun. She was staying to make sure the BAC officers wouldn't step in once Elizabeth and Kenza were locked up in the building's private room to arrest Mehdi for an imaginary obstruction. PP and BAC liked to step on each other's toes, sometimes. However, this was strictly PP's jurisdiction as masking one's face was not a felony, you only risked a fine.

The hooded woman turned her head toward her husband and he nodded with a great smile. That reassured Elizabeth about the nature of their relationship. They actually liked each other well enough, then she thought. Elizabeth led Kenza into the building and locked the door behind them. Kenza's gloved hands rummaged in a little dark blue leather bag. Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. She had seen this kind of bags not so long ago. Kenza lowered her veil and Elizabeth could see that she was indeed a beautiful woman, maybe a bit older than twenty, not as young as she suspected her to be. She gave the proximity police officer her papers and Elizabeth was able to check that she was indeed born in Great Britain from her passport. Everything was in order.

"Nice little bag." Elizabeth said in English, handing her back her papers.

"Thanks." Kenza mumbled.

"Where did you get it?"

"Apple Market in Covent Garden." she answered in a soft voice before putting her veil back on her face.

Elizabeth smiled.

"Yeah, I saw them there a few years back. I was visiting my cousins. Couldn't buy one, though."

Kenza looked at Elizabeth. Only her eyes were visible beneath the burqa. Elizabeth led her back to her husband.

A few days later, Elizabeth crossed Mehdi's path again during one of her evening patrols with Sergio from the BAC. These patrols were an effort to allow the two departments to work together and more peacefully. Fatu didn't like her partner. He seemed to think he was supposed to protect the long limbed Ethiopian girl with his live weapon. Elizabeth had snorted and Fatu had imitated Cédric's macho behaviour for a few minutes over a coffee. Elizabeth snorted at the memory.

"Hey, Elizabeth!" someone hailed.

He was in his white shirt and red waistcoat from work and had a big parcel under his arm and Kenza wasn't there. Night had fallen already. Sergio tensed. BAC dudes weren't really popular like the PP and directly depended of the Police Department while Elizabeth didn't have to adhere to all regulations (saving Mehdi and Kenza the fine two weeks prior) and didn't wear any weapon except for a non-lethal Flash-Ball gun. Sergio was a cool guy, though a bit tense whenever he came in the Cité. His regulation kevlar jacket made him a target.

Mehdi ran to her and they exchanged pleasantries. He deliberately ignored Sergio who looked around, not seeming to care about the man's ignorance.

"Kenza wanted to give you this. To thank you for the other day." Mehdi finally said, handing the parcel to her.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked, curious as to why a woman she barely knew would want to give her a gift and what if was.

"Open it." Mehdi said with a huge grin.

It was a cute little pink leather bag with a note that said "cheers, mate". Elizabeth roared with laughter.

When they were a bit farther along their patrol, Sergio grinned at her.

"So that's how it's done in PP... Do you actually use those Flash-Balls of yours or do your smiles do everything?" he chuckled.

"Nope. Last resort, Mister "I'm-BAC-We-Shoot-First-Ask-Questions-Later"." Elizabeth smiled.

When she woke up, she heard a baby crying.

"Andrasté!" She called.

And she called again. And again. She cried and shouted her little girl's name in between tears of desesperation and exhaution.

Her breasts where sore as if they had been sucked for hours. Ben liked to do that. However he was nowhere to be seen.

"Please give me back my little girl, give me my Andrasté back, I beg you." She whimpered alone in her cell.

She was starving, but she couldn't really feel it as she was worried sick about her little girl. That was the only thing in the world she wished. She was drained of milk in the dark tiny cell that reeked exactly like Daddy when he came back from work every morning. She didn't know how long she stayed there, but she clawed at her captors whenever they came to milk her like a cow.

"No! You can't give it to her, the doctors said..."

The punch that interrupted her sent her flying.

When she woke up, she was a cat.

It was the strangest thing. She was collared and leashed and she was a cat. She meowed instead of talking. She had a hard time feeling her body. It felt so alien. She slept most of the time. She thought it was fitting when the panic left her chest.

Next to her, was a man covered in blood. His white hair was caked with it. In a few meows, she tried to wake him up, but he was in a deep slumber. And when he woke up, he couldn't understand when she asked if he knew where her baby was, of course.

She noticed his makings and how they glowed in her cat vision. She wobbled on her tiny little legs. Her tail was swinging left and right but she couldn't control it really. She decided to walk and walk in circles until she was used to it. Why a cat? She wondered. It was a fast and nimble animal. Maybe she could escape then. But how would she rescue Andrasté or hold her in her arms or sing her her favourite lullaby?

She wailed. Andrasté. Andrasté. She knew her daughter was there, somehow.

The man was handsome. He had a strong nose and fine traits around it. He looked like Ben, only with white hair and a darker complexion. Something else was also different. His pointy ears, olive green eyes and white tatoos. Ben only had a black dragon on his right arm.

The man stared at her groggily. She didn't know how long they were rotting in the cell, but after a long moment of silence, the man started to talk. Fenris. Slave. Danarius. Mages.

And she understood. Elizabeth understood that this wasn't a nightmare. That her daughter was in the hands of this magister in this strange other world. What did he want with her? How did he bring her there? It looked bad. Really bad and she felt her heart sting in her now tiny chest. She had to get out of there. She had to find her daughter.

The guard came with water and bread. She was so furious in her cat form, so frustrated. She lunged at him with such force that her leash broke and she was free. While he was busy trying to get rid of her, Fenris got free of his chains with his powers.

Elizabeth ran. She sniffed the air, looking for the smell of her daughter. There, she had it. She followed it, Fenris close on her heels, killing and maiming anyone in his way. The smell stopped at a door. Her newfound friend opened it.

Andrasté wasn't there. Elizabeth called her name, meowing endlessly until she saw her bag. Her old high school bag with the stupid garish colours and Nicki Minaj's face drawn with whiteout and equally stupidly colourful highlighter. The bag reeked of Andrasté's smell. Or was it simply her smell? Elizabeth sadly moaned. She felt like she had lost her baby. Would she ever see her little Andrasté again? She climbed on the bag and rolled up into a ball. She wanted to stay there and sleep until this nightmare was over. She'd wake up, Andrasté screaming for food at undue hours again and Ben would hold her near.

"There is no time, cat." Fenris said. "We must flee before Danarius returns."

Elizabeth looked at him. He seemed like a good guy. He was willing to help a cat. She stood up and tugged at the bag with her teeth. Fenris understood the message and took it. He also took a sword. Only now Elizabeth realised it was an armory. They wouldn't have let a baby in there with so many sharp edges around.

Time had run out. She was now on the road with Fenris.

And her heart felt like it had been ripped away as surely as the guard's hearts had been.

To cheat the pain that was a constantly plaguing her head and her heart, she focused on Fenris'. She noticed how he wouldn't trust anyone human or any of the other races she heard about. He would confide in her because she was an animal to him until he opened her bag and he realised she was probably more than met the eye. When he decided to name her Freedom, she wondered why he didn't use her name as he had stumbled on her wallet. Then she realised that maybe as an escaped slave, he didn't know how to read. This strange place looked like a medieval fair, she was probably going to meet more illiterate people as education was hard to go by at this time.

Another thing she noticed in an inn was that they weren't using any alphabet she knew of at all. Well... Thet was going to be interesting to find her way into her human form and her daughter.

Fenris had the bad habit of stealing, but Elizabeth couldn't do much about it. He however also slept outside of cities beneath the stars and fled everytime someone got closer than ten paces. She started a game with him. She'd try to get him to meet actual people. Usually girls. Tried to force naughty encounters by finding a brothel and hiding in ample cleavage. That was always a fun thing to do. She'd always attract the sympathy of one of the younger performers and leave a significant trail for Fenris to follow (not that she actually knew how to hide her trail anyway).

She managed to get him to lose his relative celibacy at least with one very pretty whore that understood him a bit and silently talked to his despair and offered real comfort.

After that, he started to relax. He ran, but not because he was scared. He ran now because he had a real taste of freedom that hadn't turned into ashes in his mouth like with this Fog Warriors he had told her about.

Elizabeth really liked Fenris. She liked how he smiled, how he would hold her close in his embrace when she was looking for comfort. She didn't know exactly how time passed in here, but they saw two horrible winters, at least by her standards, pass. Those made them spend the very few coins they had to sleep in barns and working in farms cutting wood and chasing rats. Elizabeth blessed her fur. She was still clumsy, but she started to feel good as a cat...

Until Kirkwall.

She only half listened the long speeches about transfiguration, magic and animals. So she was startled when Garrett laid his hands on her that she didn't actually feel the magic.

And then she was a woman again. She immediately thought of Andrasté and flexed her fingers, extending her hands, as if she could reach out and take her in her arms.

It's fine, my little girl, mommy's there, she thought. Mommy'll soon be there and she will never ever let you go again. She almost cried.

And just like that, it was over. She was back in cat form. This time, Elizabeth broke for good.

She would never hold her little girl again. She would never see Ben again. She was stuck in here forever.

That's how she gave up. Six months. Six months she had taken care of that baby, the highlight of her seven years relationship with Ben.

She let herself fall down into depression. The worst was that she couldn't talk about it, indulge in her talkative nature. How much she wished to talk to Fenris or anyone about her plight. But cats don't speak and Fenris was always away anyway, gathering lyrium or so she was told. Wasn't that the thing on his skin? She didn't really know about lyrium, just that it was magic related.

If she had been seventeen again, she'd have loved to be there, cat or not. To escape the reality of her lack of means that shut her the good school's doors even when her Daddy had worked his ass off taking care of the White Men's garbage as he'd say in his native tongue.

Sometimes thoughts like that brought a metaphorical smile on her lips. Remembering her family, the good in it. Tamara, Marcelin, Epiphanie and Arthur. She used to hate their out of fashion names, at least Tamara was a cool one, but Elizabeth and her weirdness as a child only brought her clumsy and cruel puns from her classmates. This name had almost foretold of her predicament after all!

She wanted to say to herself she longed for Ben. And she did, several times. She was a sniveling cat. A sniveling cat that was taken care of a band of ridiculous live action RPG fans with a weird sense of humour. Garrett and Isabela were the cute libertine couple that teased her about what Garrett saw of her body. She didn't really like being with them when they discussed that, but they were nice enough (when they weren't making out when she was with them, overloading her heightened cat senses with the smell of sex and sweat. Also, gross.)

Anders was nice. He really reminded her of Ben. He always had good jokes and none were at her expense. He was caring and seeing him tend to the sick and wounded of the Undercity made her heart beat fast. Ben would have totally agreed with Anders' plan to cure the poor free of charge.

She wanted to talk to Fenris so badly, though. He was her friend. They've been together for those two years and he told her so many things. He deserved to know her. Maybe he'd even help her save her baby daughter.

Usually, thinking about Andrasté made her fall into another spiral of darkness and terror, but today she didn't. Fenris took her in his arms and whispered about the Deep Roads and transforming her back to her human form. She felt numb as she let herself be carried into the dark tunnels filled with zombie-like creatures of rot and metal with much more capacities for fighting without losing limbs. The first time she saw one, she felt like choking. When she saw it, she hid in Anders' satchel.

It was way safer there and the herbs he kept to grind into poultices helped her gtting rid of the smell. Soon, she couldn't get rid of it as it glued to her fur and she really hoped she would be turned back soon so she wouldn't be cursed by her animalistic sense of smell anymore.

When she woke up, she lied in familiar arms. The smell of lyrium and musky sweat invading her senses as she let the afterglow taking over. Then dread. What had she done? She didn't remember anything beside the light, then the kiss. How fitting, she said, a smile dancing shyly on her lips. She was no toad nor prince, but it was funny. She was in his embrace and he was looking at her with eyes filled with awe and wonder. She wanted to speak, but her throat was sore.

"Fenris." she managed to croak.

That would suffice for now. She looked at him until a scream rang behind her.

"DARKSPAWN!" Anders bellowed, his magic swirling around him.

Chaos ensued. Fenris shielded Elizabeth as she made herself little and crouched to the floor. She was greeted by a strong cat scent as she saw the garish sorts clothes. Had she really wore that as a teen? How was she supposed to fit in there after giving birth and being ten years older and stuff, she had absolutely no idea, but an extra layer of protection, even mere cotton and polyester, was welcome. She put on the pink t-shirt (that stopped beneath her breasts and pretty much acted like an oversized bra) and yellow vest, and managed to put on the jeans, though she didn't dare fasten them. She couldn't stay with Fenris, as he was a melee fighter, she'd only get in his way. So she took her chances, seeing as Varric was pretty much left alone unlike the two mages that were attacked from everywhere. She ran and tripped toward him.

"Nice to finally meet you, Princess." Varric drawled as Bianca sang her deadly tune. "There's rubble over here. If you know your way around a sling, I got one!"

Sling... It took her while to realise what he was talking about. The weirdest part of all this world to Elizabeth was the English. It assured her that she was not dreaming. Or else, people would have spoke in French, her native tongue. That's why for several minutes she had the picture of a makeshift armcast until he seemed to interpret her confused face and threw her a piece of leather.

_Une fronde. Ok._

She was instantly reminded of her little brothers mischief as young boys harrassing their sisters and the other young girls of the poor neighbourhood they inhabited and smirked as she chose a good stone.

She did hit one and smiled before mimicking Freddy Mercury in his triumphant pose. Without closing her eyes. She was still moderately scared. She also never had to kill anyone and the most dangerous weapon she ever held was her regulation Verney-Carron Flash-Ball gun. She had to apply the force to the stone herself though. And unlike with regular persons, she actually aimed at the head instead of the legs and chest.

The darkspawn were getting their asses handed to them, though. Thanks to Elizabeth's swift "let's get out of the way" action, Fenris managed to fend of the enemies from around Garrett and Anders, whispering provocative threats and hacking his way through the mages that had been overwhelmed.

Once they had regained the upper ground, they could systematically push back their opponents, though and the fight was soon over.

Fenris ran toward Elizabeth and stopped just in front of her.

"Are you hurt ?" he asked.

Her throat still felt sore still as she tried to answer and she winced as she couldn't manage to get her accent right.

"I'm fine. Feet hurt, though. I need shoes."

"How wonderful! Another Orlesian!" Varric chuckled.

Elizabeth frowned as Fenris went to retrieve her bag.

"No wonder your first concern is about shoes." Anders said. "It's more proof that she is indeed feeling better."

"What the fuck is an Orlesian?" Elizabeth managed to say before coughing. Fenris helped her drink some water from a flask. He gave her the bag and she rummaged through it finding her old pair of Sponge Bob Converse shoes that slightly pinched her toes, customised with glitter to match the golden heart on the shirt she was wearing and fit her ridiculously since her chest had largely outgrown it in ten years and a pregnancy.

"It's a country." Garrett provided. "Specialising in fancy ruffles, intrigue and very bad tastes in cheese."

"Is it ruled by a king?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, an Empress."

"How Second Empire." She said as if they could understand the joke. They still laughed.

"The country I grew up in is called France. The Second Empire is an period of its history. There was more ruffles before this era, though. Second Empire dresses are somewhat tasteful."

She had drunk sips of water in between sentences. Her throat now able to vibrate properly, she lost more and more of the accent as she went on, using her usual American brogue peppered with Londonian vocabulary and Californian slang.

"The more you go on, the more you sound like a Nevarran." Varric noticed. "How weird..."

"I suppose it's another country? How do you call the language you're speaking."

"The common tongue? The trade tongue?" Anders said. "We don't really have a name for it. I know it's even spoken in the Anderfels, where I was born."

"It's so convenient and so close to what English is back home that I'm starting to think Ben's going to wake me up saying it's my turn to feed Andrasté..."

She said. But the joke turned bitter in her mouth and she frowned again.

"Andrasté?" Fenris asked.

"My daughter. She... We were both transported here and Danarius separated us." Elizabeth explained at last. Tears were stinging her eyes now. "Guards kept coming for my milk at first. Guess they reached the same conclusions my doctor had. She always rejected breastfeeding. One day I must have fought or cried too hard and the next... Well I was a cat... My memories are all hazy. All I know is that somehow he transported my daughter and I in this country or world or past alternate timeline or whatever. I think he tried to send me back but got the time and place wrong. I was sixteen again and I was about to go to school. I think that's how he got my old bag and laptop. I had given those away ages ago..."

She couldn't stop talking now that she could. Her throat felt as if it was used and reused, but the words couldn't stop flowing from her mouth. It had been so long. It felt so good to have it out of her chest.

"And I'm here. Without my six months old daughter that is probably three or maybe even four now, all walking, making pasta necklaces and saying Mommy to an other woman if my best nightmares are to be believed."

Her throat tightened. This time from anguish and anxiety. The words stopped, the tears started to stream down her face in earnest.

Fenris' hand shyly caressed her back and she leaned against him. he shifted in an awkward manner, but he didn't seem too fazed by her human form.

"We should go back." Elizabeth said. "I... I need to sleep it off..."

"We could all use some shut eye." Garrett yawned.

And suddenly, Garrett closed his eyes and started to snore. He had fallen asleep on his feet and it was the weirdest thing in the world.

"I am so incorporating it in the Legend of Garrett Hawke." Varric chuckled.

"If you say that his eyes were actually opened, it might add some more danger to the character." Elizabeth sobbed, wiping the tears away.

After dragging him to the camp that had mercifully not been attacked as well, Varric had to explain to Bartrand who she was and why she was there spinning a wonderful fairy tale in which, Fenris, heavily wounded, had gently kissed her muzzle, starting her transformation. She was now a Nevarran Princess that was cursed by a Dalish Keeper (whatever that was) to wander the world as a cat because she had been mean to her elven servants and had made the Dalish miserable. She had now found true love in Fenris and been transformed back...

Right... Seemed legit.

"If she's a Princess, she may be valuable. Her parents could pay a ransom."

"It happened centuries ago, brother. She still thinks Orlais are they're allies. Hell, she was supposed to marry one of those sodding ass lickers. She speaks with a marvelous Orlesian accent and has no idea of Val Royeaux's latest fashion. She did ask first for shoes when the elf and her where done eating each other's face at last, though."

Elizabeth scowled and decided to watch Fenris set two bedrolls side by side and unbuckle his sword sheath. He placed it in between the cots. She felt her heart squeeze.

"You don't have spew that much nug shit in one go, Varric. I won't let such a sweet piece of ass like that to die down there. So shut the fuck up, this is rest time."

Elizabeth smiled at these words. She was always receptive to flattery. Just in case, she decided to let through a little French in her speech when around Bartrand. She went to the cot Fenris had set and sat on it. Fenris sat on his. And they stared at each other a while.

"Thank you. For helping me." He finally said. "And for... I don't know. Your company. I... When I look at the man I am now, the man I was two years ago can't believe his eyes. Thank you."

"Seriously, it was nothing. I wanted to escape as much as you do when I realised they had moved Andrasté." Elizabeth whispered.

She felt strange, all light and fluttering now that he was near. It was strange to be a human after such a long time in a cat's body, the feeling of arousal felt different when you had experienced a female cat's heat period.

"Had I known about your daughter before, I could have helped. Danarius was away from the mansion for a party with local authorities and nobles. He didn't bring me along because he didn't have the time to break me properly. The guards were talking about Danarius being blessed by Andrasté and showing off his future bride. If this is true, your baby may be alive."

Elizabeth whimpered and but bit back tears of despair before whispering.

"I think I will go to sleep. If that's okay."

"Sure. I am first to stay guard. I should..."

He stopped mid sentence and looked away as he sat up. He seemed to want to add something else, but he changed his mind and left.

Elizabeth embraced her knees and watched the camp as it went to sleep. She wasn't tired. Mostly because she was overthinking. She wanted to talk, to sing, to marvel at the return of her voice. She had always liked singing and her music teacher had often told her that she should have gone to a music school, but living in the kind of town she lived in... Well, she was no better than Mehdi in that regard.

She sighed as Fenris looked her way from afar. This was not going as she had hoped. But at least she was human. That ought to count for something, right?


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay. I repeatedly came back home and went to bed for a few weeks. I'm still writing, though. I'm trying to unfold something. Thanks for all the reviews and favs and alert thingies. It keeps me going. =) Y.**

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"I swear I will kill this son of a bitch. Sorry Mother."

Elizabeth looked pale. She had insisted on coming with them, saying that she was just bigger now, not more stupid. She was using Varric's old sling with more and more precision when the danger proved to be too interesting for her tastes and she had looted a sword off the corpse of a Darkspawn that had lightly wounded her. She wielded it like a stick, though.

"I'm... I'm starting to understand how claustrophobic people feel." she said as sweat started to wet her brow. "I always were more the acrophobic one, though..."

"Stress' making you lose your grammar?" Hawke asked, an eyebrow raised. "Don't answer that. The Deep Roads were all connected together, we might find another exit if we continue to move ahead."

"I've been to the Deep Roads long enough to confirm your thoughts, Hawke." Anders added. "If we don't find an exit, we have a slight chance of finding another thaig that could have clues to show us to a part of the road that has either Dwarven or Warden patrols. If we are lucky. Very, very, very lucky..." he added with a dark expression on his face.

Fenris saw Elizabeth shiver. His heart had somehow hurt to hear the extent of Danarius crimes from her own mouth, but he could hear her plight, at last and she was depressed no more. However, she had spent all her waking hours talking and singing. Maybe that was the actual reason behind Bartrand's treason: her incessant babbling and chirping. At first, Fenris was delighted to hear her voice. Now he only care if she sang. She had the most gorgeous voice he was ever allowed to hear.

It was understandable after all. She was probably talking and singing two years worth of songs and one sided conversations. She had told him that it was what made her so helpless. Not being able to ask for help.

Each "night" he had settled their cots side by side and taken place on them, letting his two handed sword separate them, she would whisper and talk about her life, her strange job as a "proximity policewoman", her daughter and the day she was born. Her husband and how they met when she was a young woman who was just discovering life. Her world seemed to have lightened most of life's burden and focused on giving people the best, as long as they had a the

money. And even if they didn't, there was always a way to get the same benefits for free provided you proved that you were willing to fight an army or bureaucrats, papers and forms to fill to get access to the coin needed to entertain yourself. She called it Panem et Circem.

"This language sounds like Arcanum." Fenris said, frowning.

"It's called Latin. A language now only spoken by scholars studying the mysteries of the gloriously extinct Roman Empire and the official language of the Catholic Church in its Hallowed Grounds in the City of the Vatican. Mostly old priests, sisters of the faith and tourists coming to marvel at the buildings. They're two thousands of years old and were heavily decorated and maintained during this time. I went there once with a friend. She's Italian so she always goes to the Vatican to get a new bracelet and see her aunt. I just wanted to see the Sixtine Chapel ceiling. A very famous artist decorated it. It's kinda famous, especially God and Man reaching for each other and touching fingers."

"This is really strange." Fenris commented. "This Latin language they speak, is it only used when they are holding religious ceremonies?"

"That and official Church administration business. However, within the City, the tourists mostly speak their language, Italian or English."

"I don't understand a thing." Fenris said, offering one of these awkward glares that counted as a smile.

Elizabeth sat up and grabbed her bag, mumbling "Please, tell me we had already done the EU in Geography by then..." She grabbed her grey box. The sound woke the others as she... Lit it up. There was no other words. She pushed a button and the reflecting surface suddenly was lit and showing all sorts of images.

"Okay, battery's full so I can show you a few things... God, that computer's so old and sloooow." she whined as she hit the multiple buttons and glided her fingers on a little surface that was of a different colour from the rest.

She brought up an image on the mirror.

"Okay, so this is a screen. Thanks to this screen, I am showing you informations that are stored in that thing. I used this machine at school and it seems that my Geography course about the continent I lived in is stored in it. So here is the world map..."

And thus started a fascinating lecture. The images had text written with her letters, but she read them and explained them to her Thedasian friends as she scaled down to the continents and the countries and their alliances.

"My country is over these mountains North of there. It's little now. But we're an ancient country with lots of traditions and stuff. Which makes us unsufferable grade A assholes. Especially those who come from families who are from there and not migrants like mine..."

The abomination was drinking her words, Hawke seemed interested too and Varric said :

"That's pretty cool, but I'm more interested in knowing which God are you referring to whenever you curse?"

"Hmmm..."

Elizabeth frowned.

"I guess it's Christianism. Though my mother was raised in Islam. She practiced it too. From what I gathered, but she didn't really want to talk about it, her parents were unhappy she married a Christian, but the imam gave his blessing anyway in the name of Abraham. I quite agree, when you read the books, it's like you're reading a trilogy where the heroes are descended from this dude.."

"And how does that machine works exactly." Anders asked, his eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge, ideas and theories.

Varric groaned, he wanted to know more about this Abraham, it seemed, but Elizabeth sighed.

"I am not an engineer, but here is the power supply port." her finger pointed a hole behind the device. "We hook it up with a cable to an outlet. And that's where my knowledge stops. I don't know exactly how we harness electricity or manage to have the exact right amount of it to travel in the cables from its source to said outlets that we set in our habitations. Something I know for sure is: if you bring too much than its made to handle, it ends badly. And don't put your fingers in the outlets."

"You harnessed electricity without magic?" Hawke bellowed.

"Wait." the abomination said. "You'll tell us everything you know when we're out of the Deep Roads. We need some sleep to stay alive down there."

Some of the other "nights" were less eventful. Anders and Hawke didn't mention this electricity thing again, but Fenris could see that Elizabeth wanted to talk about it too just for the sake of talking.

One night, with only Varric, Anders and Hawke to witness the sudden outburst of affection, she hugged the elf and she started to ramble and cry, holding him tightly as if she was drowning.

He listened as she had listened to him as Freedom. This time it was not useless chatter to hear the sound of her own voice. It was her fears, her hopes. She was honest. She was revealing so much of her to him while he hadn't deserved any of her attention.

He didn't know what to say or do. He didn't hug people and as Freedom she had to force the first occurrence. Holding her gorgeous body was something else entirely, though.

And now that he knew she had a family of her own, he felt guilty of all the desire that pooled beneath his stomach ever since he had first seen the real her.

He also had trapped her in the Deep Roads, delaying her quest to find Danarius. What was he supposed to say when she confided all her woes to him?

He just hugged her back. Awkwardly.

She leaned on him and fell asleep, in tears. He could almost hear her purr, as if she was feline again.

The days were spent walking endlessly through tunnels only trusting Anders as to which direction take to avoid the Darkspawn that were inevitably attracted by him. He didn't know this part of the Deep Roads, but he patroled through those long enough to pick up some tips about how they were made and this made all the difference in the end.

They encountered monstrosities of rock and hunger that were easily killed.

Elizabeth had stayed close to him at all times with her Darkspawn's sword and Varric's sling. She'd only back away toward one of the mages or Varric in combat. This time, she had chosen Anders. It made him groan when she did. He was a competent healer, their only way out of the Deep Roads, but he still was an abomination. He'd hate it if he hurt Elizabeth.

As these thoughts went through his mind, he slipped.

He fell beneath the huge rockwraith that protected its treasure. He couldn't duck its energy onslaught. When he woke up, Elizabeth was above him, covered in burns scrapes and blood.

"Are you fine?" The Elf mumbled, narrowing his eyes to better inspect her ebony skin for scratches or injuries.

"Am I fine?" She said, her eyes like saucers and her voice strangled and high pitched by hysteria. "You're such a... A... Putain tu m'emmerdes!" She yelled, removing herself from his presence. She hid behind Hawke, fuming and fumbling with the makeshift scabbard she had attached to her hip.

She didn't talk to him for a while. She didn't talk at all. However, her closed face and angered eyes weren't a sign of melancholia. Fenris didn't say a thing. He was wondering what had happened when they fought the abomination made of bones and stone.

They finally saw the surface again a few days later when they found a stream and followed it topside. Elizabeth ran to the water and splashed, her laughter ringing musically. Fenris had his arm encased in a sling, his joints and bones too strained for magic to make it instantly better, and it wasn't his or Varric's style to rejoice in such a manner, but Hawke and Anders ran after her and started playing as well, happy to see the sky again, to feel the sun on their skin. Fenris quite agreed with the mages for once. It was good.

What was this feeling, tugging at his chest when he saw Elizabeth sitting on Hawke's shoulders as they chased Anders through the stream and splashed like children? What was this ache in his throat?

He knew what it was. He didn't know what it was.

So he focused his energy in searching the nearest road to Kirkwall. He had a Magister to kill.

Elizabeth naturally came with him in the house. To shield her from the less gentle weather, Anders had lent her his cloak. Fenris had felt a need to growl when the softly put it on her shoulders.

He couldn't really remember what had bothered him in it. He just felt better seeing how she just followed him now they were in Kirkwall. Her pink and golden shoes were showing and nobles were staring at them.

Aveline had promised to make sure his borrowed house was left undisturbed and she kept her word. They were away for two months and nothing but dust had settled in the mansion.

Elizabeth took a few steps in. She was just discovering the mansion again at the good height. She sat on the bed in front of the fireplace. The lone blanket they used had unfortunately met moths. It was also meant for a lone sleeper.

"So... You think Danarius will ever come back?"

"Yes." Fenris said.

"Would he come with my daughter?"

"I don't know."

"I can't wait here forever." She whispered. "If I am somewhat trapped in here because of Danarius... I can't live here separated from my little girl knowing she's out there."

"No you can't." Fenris aknowlegded.

Just as he couldn't bear to be separated from Elizabeth right now.

His throat was taking twists and turns he didn't know it could take and this was unsettling.

He was afraid she'd leave. It superceded his fear of being caught again, his fear of Danarius and his powers.

"And yet I find that I can't bring myself to leave you. At first, my reasons made perfect sense. I don't know shit about this world, I don't even read the alphabet! But... I'm mostly staying for you. Because I feel I can give you more Freedom. Remember when you gave me that name ?"

Fenris smiled. He felt better, though the memory made him blush.

"Yes. After Miki."

"I was quite proud. Made me remember when I first got my littlest brother hooked up to a friend from work. Though in your case we had to pay her."

She was carefully avoiding his gaze and he was happy for it. Though he couldn't tears his own stare from her, his cheeks were burning red and hot.

"She handed back half the coin actually. Said that she had to eat but that she could do me a small favour for... The pleasure."

Elizabeth raised her head to meet Fenris' gaze. They were a hundred times beautier than the unremarkable green discs the kind elven whore had sported. In Elizabeth's eyes, he was drowning, loosing his footing and he desperately wanted to get lost in their depths. His cheeks felt like two hot pans and it threatened to spread to his ears.

She looked so vulnerable. As if she was baring herself to him. He realised that he already saw her naked. No, not naked, bare, he thought as he felt a light breeze helping him to finally step forwards, gently, amorously.

"When... When Garrett changed me back... It wasn't working properly. I was scared. You came and you kissed me. You hugged me. I changed back to human form because you anchored me here. I... Back there, back home..." she suddenly blurted out.

The word "home" felt forced in her throat.

"Well, my husband's there, but I... I think I'd rather stay wherever you are. You've been such... Such a rock for two years... I can't imagine how it'd be to... Come back home, to... To. I don't know. I'm terrible at speaking my mind…"

She rose on her feet and walked toward Fenris too. He was mesmerized and silent but he couldn't erase the stupid smile on his lips when she came closer and she lightly pecked them.

He remembered the kiss better now. The white light, how their lives had played before their eyes like a... He could'nt remember the word. If the lyrium markings had hurt almost as much as when they were etched into his skin in the first place, he had almost forgotten it. It felt like blasphemy to forget what had happened between them, then. But the lyrium in his skin was a curse he had to live with now. He sighed as he realised that Elizabeth was waiting for an answer.

"I am glad that you are staying. I..."

He fumbled with the words. How could such an emotion be translated with words?

"I swore to myself that I wouldn't be a slave any more, but I am a slave to your smiles and your songs. Only them bring me this... I ... I can't explain..."

"You feel like you're complete. Like a part of you had been lost without you realising and came back as its own person." she completed.

He couldn't help himself anymore. He kissed her, shyly, chastely, reveling at the soft feeling of her large and full lips. She didn't physically answer but a contented sigh escaped her throat.

"That's called being in love." Elizabeth said, a knowing smile on her lips. "I felt it once or twice. It's nice. You should let it in."

She took his hands and placed them on her hips. She started to kiss back and Fenris' head started to feel numb as he became increasingly aware of another part of his body.

She slowly tugged at his tunic and her hands smoothly traveled up and down his scarred chest. She had seen him naked before, but it felt different when she was a cat or during this strange dream Garrett had to send them to to turn her. Now he wanted her to see him naked for real, to attract her eyes. He wanted to be everything to her. To give her everything.

His sex addled brains allowed him to whisper a promise in her ear as they locked into a a passionate and hot embrace. Tongues and fingers becoming one as their flesh joined in the most intimate of ways.


End file.
